Cognac and Whiskey
by matchboxcars
Summary: because it's what we do" Ch. 2 up! please R and R
1. Chapter 1

Casey remembers Olivia outside the door of her office

Casey remembers Olivia outside the door of her office. She remembers the way Olivia's face was sunken, aged, a crease around her eyes and a heaviness to her brow. She remembers Olivia's voice asking her out to get a drink, barely audible and forced, as if she had no energy to talk at all.

She remembers all of this because Olivia had been sad, and while Olivia was many things, she was rarely sad. Sadness was heavier than anything on the woman, and Casey wondered if she herself could bear the sadness she saw in the mahogany eyes, because an angry Olivia was one thing, a frustrated Olivia, compassion, exhaustion, all those things were tolerable. But Olivia looking as if she no longer had hope in her to stand, let alone whisper, that was another matter completely.

They went to an old bar within walking distance, one with cork floors and foggy air filled with smoke, and Olivia had whiskey on ice while Casey had a cognac.

"Right before Alex died, she said it wasn't worth it"

"Liv…"

Olivia shook her head, "Said there would always be another victim"

"there will be"

"fucked up kind of job security"

"yeah. Yeah it is,"

Casey thought Olivia might put her head down on the bar and sleep right there in some desperate wish never to wake up again, but she never did, just turned her eyes to Casey and whispered,

"It's never enough"

"Is that what Alex said?"

Olivia nodded, her eyes turned towards a scratch on the bar,

"Is that what you honestly believe?"

"I don't know Casey" Olivia swirled the alcohol around in her mouth and swallowed, gave a short laugh,

"My mother used to drink this all the time," she stood to leave, "thanks Casey, I'm sorry, I'm just not that much fun right now."

Under normal circumstances, Casey would have let Olivia walk out of a bar, no problems, but tonight, something made her grab the tan wrist and hold on.

"You're not okay right now"

"I'm fine"

"Olivia, my apartment is two blocks away. You look like hell, I know you feel like it. Humor me."

A detective too far gone to care is a rare and unfortunate sight, but Casey did her best to ignore the sagging shoulders and defeated eyes as she led the woman back to her place. After four flights of stairs and a long hallway, Olivia looked as if she might not make it through the door. Her face was void of expression, her eyes blank, hands unusually still. Casey led her to a chair, and Olivia watched as she pulled out the hide a bed and lay sheets and pillows on it.

"Sleep"

"Casey?"

At the end of a minute it was Elliot, or rather, Elliot's words, that led her to take Olivia to her own room, and lay with her arms around the trembling woman until she fell asleep. It couldn't have been long after she transferred to SVU, and after a particularly hard case, she had brought Olivia a cup of coffee and a bottle of bath bubbles. Olivia had looked utterly confused, and while Casey had been thanked graciously, she felt something was missing. Elliot must have sensed Casey's bewilderment, because he pulled her aside and whispered,

"_People don't do things for her. She barely knew how to accept a cup of coffee when she started here, let alone a gift. Funny, she would give her soul to make sure I got home to my kids or Cragen didn't miss AA" _

Looking at Olivia looking completely lost in her living room was the last straw.


	2. Chapter 2

When Casey awoke the next morning, she expected Olivia to be gone, a note on her pillow asking her to forget that Olivia had ev

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Author's note: Thanks to all of you who reviewed, and I am so sorry I have not had time to respond to each of you individually, but I really do appreciate the feedback and encouragement.

When Casey awoke the next morning, she expected Olivia to be gone, a note on her pillow asking her to forget that Olivia had ever shown weakness, let alone allowed herself to be rocked to sleep. Casey expected that if Olivia had remained, she would have done so looking embarrassed and apologetic, hell Casey expected anything when she woke, anything except Olivia, who was there, in her bed, staring at the ceiling, her hands folded under her chin, cheeks sucked in, and eyes, a shade darker than nutmeg, with nothing but dull acknowledgement in them.

"You okay?" Casey shifted up on one arm.

"What am I doing Casey?"

"Liv?"

"You spend your whole life…" She trailed off, tilted her head and met Casey's eyes, and Casey thought it strange, because while Casey met Olivia's eyes several times a week, they seemed more beautiful now, shrouded in existentialism.

"You spend your whole life what, Liv?"

A soft smile graced Olivia's features, but fell away as she answered,

"Thinking you can control a situation,"

"What do you mean"?

"At some point all the rapists were going to be put away, the children would all be safe, people were going to help one another. That's what I thought, Casey, I used to be idealistic and I used to think I was making a difference, and I- I used to be young."

"Liv,"

"Do you know what else I used to think?,"

Casey nodded,

" I used to think my mother would wake up one day, find the stack of report cards in the drawer and realize I was better to love than alcohol. I used to think that if I just worked hard enough, was pretty enough, was smart enough, somebody would love me enough to take me away from hell and that I could prove to myself I wasn't the man who raped my mother and I used to think I could change things."

Casey didn't know why she was suddenly so mad, but she felt herself wanting out. Olivia had found the ax and was sinking her ship.

"You can't control situations Liv, you control yourself, and what your mother did, or what a traumatized teenage girl did, or a rapist, or a child, or whoever, that's their problem. You're right, your not change much, but we can go door to door all day if we have to, and ask all the victims you've been there for, the ones who's hands you held through kits and interviews and statements, and we'll ask them, "did it help to have Detective Benson with you?" and if they don't say yes, they're lying."

"Casey"

"Shut up Liv. Just…"

"You're crying."

"You can't just give up Olivia, you stopped me from walking out of this, and yeah, this job sucks, and it hurts, and some nights I pray I don't wake up because I ache, and I'm tired, and I had to watch a little boy identify the man who violated him the entirety of his conscious life, but I keep going back, because it's what we do. We keep trudging through the mud singing Lennon and making it through the next day. Because somebody has to. Because the two hours of sleep we get a night is better than none, and it's all or nothing for us Liv. So you walk out, and it's done. No, you can't control a situation, but I can tell you right now there are people who love you and people who care about you, and you're looking at one of them right now."

"Casey," Olivia was whispering now, and they were both crying, and Casey thought she might explode, because she wanted someone to love her too, someone to hold her after late nights looking for a break that wasn't there, after she lost a case, after she won. And because Olivia almost gave up and Olivia never gave up, and she was afraid to open the window, because she thought she might have found that the sky was falling.


End file.
